


Can I skip this part?

by TheBigFudanshi



Category: The Rock-afire Explosion (Band)
Genre: Nail Polish, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Trying to get more works on an obscure fandom-
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2020-09-17
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:34:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26278744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBigFudanshi/pseuds/TheBigFudanshi
Summary: My shitty attempt at getting more works on this fandom. Requests open.)5 times Mitzi paints the band's nails, plus 1 time they treat her back
Kudos: 3





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, the titless needso work. Send me prompts if you want, I'll try to get around to stuff.

1\. Dook LaRue

"Aww come on Mitzi, I don't wanna do that."

"Don't you wanna match the others?" She tries, arms crossed with a mock pout on her lips, and well, it's only a half truth. It was just her and Beach with their nails like this at the time. If her goal was reached though, and Dook had his way, he really wouldn't match.

The dog grimaces, looking away in thought. Mitzi give him the best puppy dog eyes, noting the relation to the phrase. Finally he sighs and runs a paw down his face. "Alright, alright. I get to choose the colour though, I'm not having hot pink nails." The mouse pumps a fist in the air, whooping in glee. "Alright, come on." She gestures toward her door, slipping in with the grace of, well, an excited teenage mouse.

Dook stands awkwardly by the door after he enters, glancing at her and then to the floor. She pats her arm, nodding towards the bed. "Sit down on the edge, find a colour." The array of shades encourages the space dog to finally go over, kneeling by the box and going through the glass bottles. Brands and names yell at him, Pure Ice, Revelon, LA Colors, Broadway. So many different names for such similar things. He didn't really understand the names, Broadway? What's that supposed to mean, that your nails will look like broadway? Now that he thought about it that way it _kinda_ made sense, but what about Pure Ice, your nails aren't cold, or like ice.

He's snapped out of his head from Mitzi's paw on his shoulder, jumping under her touch. If she felt it, she didn't address it. "Find a colour?" The drummer shakes his head, a little lost. "There's so many. Glittery, Matte, ice. Doesn't make too much sense to me. What's the different between having shiny and not shiny nails, _is_ there a point to it? Then there's these sayings. Bee yellow, foxy yellow. What's the difference between these?" He holds up the two he had just named, not seeing a difference in shade nor brand. "Rose red and fire truck red, what's with the names? Do they look different out of the bottle?"

Mitzi rests her hand on his shoulder kneeling down. "Dook, do you need me to help?" Near immediately he blushes and shakes his head, crystalline eyes still on the bottles of colour. "Naw, just. It's odd, don't you think? They don't look different to me besides name. It's the same brand too." Dook sets the bottles in the box, shifting from his knees to crossing his legs. The mouse sifts through the box in search for colours, seeing as Dook wasn't too experienced in this kinda stuff. "Well, it's a matter of how it looks in the light," she takes the two yellows that he used to have, turning them towards the light instead of being shadowed by the bed. One of them had a shimmery coat, while the other was more of a normal tone. "It's pretty hard to figure out sometimes, I couldn't even tell until recently." She giggles into her palm, bottles falling unnoticed onto the carpet.

Dook smiles and snorts a laugh, reaching in the box to pull out a glittery sliver, looking it over. Though he sets it back in, he grasps a yellow, the same one he was talking about. "What about this? Might look good with the costume." He decides, holding it between his pointer and middle finger. Mitzi takes the glass container, and nods. "Alright, sit on the edge of the bed by the wall, I have the put the nail polish back." She grabs the two reds on the carpet and sets the yellow on the bed, walking out of the room to the hall closet.

The so called junkyard dog hopped onto the foot of the bed, leaning against the wall and patting ungloved paws against his thighs. He has time to think, looking back on what he had been doing earlier. Practicing on roller skates, obviously. It was actually a lot harder than he could've thought actually, especially since he hasn't done it much before, or in a while. It brings him back to one of the shows he did, the Christmas show in 86'. It felt so long ago, even if it wasn't as long as it felt. Singing with the band, Fatz going on about fried chicken, Beach Bear's facination with aggression in stores. It was a good memory. He could remember fumbling awkwardly with his drum sticks, not having too much to do with them, and he comes to a realization. He wears gloves, a lot. Wouldn't that mean it didn't really matter if he had painted nails? The dog stops the patting in thought, rubbing at the edge of the flannel he had on. What was the point of this then, just a family sort of thing, a group thing?

Mitzi stops his train of thought with a clap, smile on her face. Dook jumps what feels like 3 feet in the air, heart stuttering in his chest. He had his eyes closed again, didn't he? It happened sometimes, day dreaming turning into almost actual dreaming. The teenaged rodent snickers at him, shaking the nail polish and sitting on the other side of the bed. "Alright now, let's get this on," She holds her hand out for his paw, and he does indeed give it to her, admittedly a little slow.

She begins to apply the yellow paint on his claws, leaned forward to try to avoid painting on any fur. "Should look good, you can make it work." She grins, dipping the brush into the bottle again, swirling it around the inside of the rim just to brush it on another claw. "How's skating coming?" Mitzi asks, looking up briefly.

"It's fine, haven't fallen too much recently. It's much more difficult than I remember though. Used to be a whiz when I was younger, going up ramps." He taps a rythm with his free hand. He couldn't remember what song it was though. "How's cheerleader been?" He returns, and the mouse reacts accordingly. "It's been good. We got someone to top the pyramid again, so we were able to start doing the pyramid again." She leaves put the part of her actually going to the top, deciding that she could bring it up some other time.

Dook finds it the right time to bring up his question, admittedly he should've asked before they started. "I wear gloves with that costume, yeah? What's the point of this?" Mitzi tilts her head side to side in a so so fashion, tapping his fidgeting hand. "We're all going to do it, we wouldn't want to leave you out of it, even if it's not really out in the open." She smiles at him, reaching for his unpainted hand in exchange for his drying hand. The chemical sell burnt his sensitive nose, and he had to applaud Mitzi. She didn't even seem affected by it, much less displeased by it. "If you blow on it, it'll dry faster." The junkyard dog does as advised, blowing on the wet yellow paint.

The rodent tapped her own green nails on the frame of the bed, her occupied hand working to complete the dog's right hand. She flicked her blonde hair out of her face, sitting up straight once more. "Okay, you're done. Don't touch it until it's done or you might mess it up." It wasn't like he was going to do it on purpose, though it was good advice. "You're going to get Fatz to do this?" Dook asked in curiousity. What kind of colour would Fatz have anyway? Black? Hot pink? Green? He would probably find out anyway.

"That's the plan." Mitzi nods, nails clicking on the metal bedframe. She had a determined look on her face, smiling ear to ear.


	2. One Fatz Geronimo and one Mitzi Mozzarella.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mitzi persuades Fatz into painting his nails. Spoilers, it isn't a happy time for the gorrila
> 
> Edit: writing software is shit and has a very low character limit :/

Turns out, it was hot pink. In the words of one Fatz Geronimo, "If I'm gonna have these painted nails scraping across that keyboard, I might as well go all~lll out." The gorilla had said, a false passion burning in his eyes. In all actuality, it was Mitzi who chose the colour.

"C'mon Fatz! Everyone else is doing it, why won't you?" "I told you already, I am not going up on no stage with no painted nails. The ladies don't like it." The rodent crossed her arms, pouting up at the black furred gorilla. "You know Esmeralda wouldn't appreciate that type of talk." She tried, but he bites right back at her. "And you know I won't be paintin' no nail on these hands. You're telling me you got Rolfe to do this?" He had his hands on his hips, accusatory tone chasing a similar expression. In turn Mitzi nodded proudly. "Well of course I did, it's not that hard."

The gorilla stared at her, waving a hand for her to continue. "Well it's, I just." She looks away, the doorknob to Rolfe's room suddenly so interesting. She already knew she didn't get to Rolfe yet, but Fatz didn't need to. "And did you think lyin' one awful lie was gonna get you anywhere?" He sassed, golden tuxedo shining as bright as his ever growing ego. "well, no, but it could've!" The mouse whined, arms dangling by her sides. "Now can I read this in silence?" He asked ever so firmly, flapping the paper in question as he continued on.

He only got a few sentences in when he heard Mitzi's saddened voice. "Oh well, I'll just lay in my lonesome." She tried, begging with the gods to let it work. "if only I had someone to bond with." The gorrila gleamed over the newpaper at Mitzi, leaning back in his claimed recliner. "I guess I'll just go call one of those boys, they'll want to hang out with me, not like mean ol' Fatz." Fatz begrudgingly stood, putting down his reading material. "Mean ol' Fatz changed his mind. Ain't no boys comin' in this house of mine." He grunted and sighed. "What do you need me to do?"

"Sit down on the floor, let me get the nail polish. Oh, and close your eyes!" He did so with a mess of grumbling, shutting his eyes, and crossed his legs. Mitzi quickly tumbled back with the small decorated box, and dug through it with a clinking of bottles. Unbeknownst to Fatz, she pulled put a glittery hot pink, appropriately named Runway. She plucked Fatz hand from his lap and began to spread the shimmery paint across admittedly destroyed nails. He obviously didn't care for these too much, but seeing as he was the only band member with human like hands, she had to give him a little bit of leeway. His hands were so weird to see sometimes, being used to the claws of the others and the wings of Looney Bird. It wasn't like she stared at the other's hands though, that'd be a bit too weird for her.

She finished up his hand, placing it back on his leg. He chuckled real brash, smirking all the while. "That better not be no pinks, nor purples." His only response is a giggle from resident Mozzarella herself, who had began on the other hand. He cracks an eye open, only getting a glance at the box before Mitzi covers his eyes with a hand. "No looking until it's done!" The mouse insists, painting the last nail. "Alright, _now_ you may look." She insists, removing the offending hand. Fatz fanned his hands out, finally sparing his vision towards the glittery paint on his fingers. He rolled his eyes and shoved her head back with a finger to her forehead, grinning nonetheless. "I told you, none of that, and look what you do. Sparkly nails? Now that's a whole new brand of disrespect comin' from you." The keyboardin' ape jabbed. "You can't wipe it off now, you'll ruin it." She crossed her arms, and smirked at him. She had gotten her way, and with a bonus.

She looked at her work proudly, Mitzi putting away the bottles in the hall closet adjacent to her room, a feature she had so insisted for. _"So I can get to the nail polish faster_." Stuck out. _"Well who else wants to be closer?"_

As soon as she returned she realized the big ape had left the room, most likely to wash it off, that oaf. Hurrying down the hall, she peeked into the open bathroom door, but Fatz wasn't there. "Where could he be?" The rodent wondered aloud, skipping back down the walkway and arriving in the kitchen just around a corner, where the Banana Man happened to be, trying to make a sandwich with the still drying nails. He had his fingers spread apart, adamant to get that done without ruining her hard work. She smiled as he cocked his head to get her in his vision. "Might as well not ruin such beautiful artistry."

Mitzi nodded at him in an exaggerated fashion, fists on her hips. She almost tumbled off the step in her haste to get off, strutting over to the counter to watch the gorilla try and fail to put the two pieces of bread together. She set her elbows on the marble top, head resting in her open hands. "You havin' fun there Fatz?" The ape in question gave her a stern look.

"You've got somethin' comin' there Missy."


	3. Billy Bob and the curse of mice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Billy Bob's turn!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! Yeah, my work isn't good, but I'm trying. Please comment what you think, I'd live to fix my writing. Love ya!

IN PROGRESS AS WE SPEAK**


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